The Way It Was Meant to Be
by 17ginny17
Summary: 19 years after Harry Potter's defeat of Lord Voldemort, the next generation of children are entering Hogwarts. There are still things to be repaired there, things that must change. House rivalry,quiddich,and a mysterious object found deep in the forest...
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. Kapeesh?**

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**Prologue**

Over 1,000 years ago, in a secluded place in England, four extraordinary witches and wizards met each other for the first time. It was decided by fate that the two witches and two wizards, the most promising of all magical people of the era, would one day unite as one.

Each had a few special qualities that defined him or her, which they displayed to the highest degree. One had courage and bravery, another fairness and perseverance. One was given wit and cleverness, and the last with craftiness and the ability to use all means to achieve his ends.

Together, these four people created something which's equal has never been seen.

These were the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

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**I hope you like this, and even if you don't, please continue to the next chapter, maybe you'll like it more!**

**Reviews are always, _always_ appreciated, please!**


	2. Hogwarts!

**A/N: So here is the first real chapter. I hope you like it, now start reading. And by the way, I'm sorry if it is a while between postings, since I am writing this in 10-minute intervals during homeroom!**

**Disclaimer: If I were J. K. Rowling, I would have better things to do than write this fanfic. Therefore, I do not own Harry Potter.**

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**Chapter 1: Hogwarts!**

Rose PoV:

Hogwarts! I'm finally going to Hogwarts! Albus and I, old enough at last to go to Hogwarts with James and Teddy and Victiore!

I am so excited I can barely contain myself. I have already put on my new school robes and gotten all my trunks ready. Over the summer, I even learned a few spells with my new wand, just to be prepared. When I told this to Daddy last night, he told me I was just like Mother when she was my age. That made me really proud because Mother is the smartest witch I know. All there is left for me to do now is wait for the train to come, hear Hugo whining about how _he_ has to wait another two years to go to Hogwarts, and listen to Mother and Daddy's advice and reminders.

"...Oh, and Rosie, you have tea with Hagrid on Wednesday at 3:00, make sure you're there, and don't forget to study and to do your homework on time, and give Neville our love, won't you?...", Mother is saying. _Love_, to a _professor_? Who is she kidding? People don't _do_ that. I roll my eyes at Mother, and then give her half a smile to tell her that I really do appreciate her advice. At least, I did the first 500 times around.

Meanwhile, Daddy is also talking to me, most of his comments half-joking and half-not. It is sort of hard to tell which is which, so I just listen quietly.

"See over there, Scorpius Malfoy? Make sure you beat him in all your exams. And get into Gryffindor, or we'll disown you..."

Honestly, you'd think that Mother and Daddy are the ones going to their first day of school, not me.

Mother rushes over and shushes Daddy, telling him not to make jokes like that, he'll just make me nervous. I don't mind, really. I know I'll be in Gryffindor anyway. Everyone in my family has been, even James, who, despite what he pretends, is deathly afraid of spiders and thestrals.

I look around the station, and I see a lot of people I know. Standing by Mother, Daddy, Hugo and me are James, Lily and Albus with Uncle Harry and Aunt Hermione, across the way are Teddy and Victiore (snogging again: ewww!). Albus is going into first year, like me, James is going into second, and Lily, like Hugo, is still too young to come to Hogwarts. Uncle Percy is also here, and so is Uncle George with Fred (he's in third year). I look hard, and I can see the boy Daddy told me is called Scorpius, too.

Oh! Here's the train coming now! It fills me with excitement all over again to see the scarlet train, whistle blowing and wheels chugging.

"Bye Mother, bye Daddy!", I call out as Albus, James and I board the train.

_This is it!_, I tell myself. _Hogwarts at last!_

Albus PoV:

_Hogwarts. I'm going to Hogwarts._, I think as Rose, James and I get on the train. Just thinking about it makes my stomach do some pretty impressive gymnastics. There are so many things to worry about: Will I be able to learn all the spells? Will the professors hate me? Will I make any friends? And worst of all, what house will I be in?

Dad said that I will be in Gryffindor, if that's what I tell the sorting hat is what I really want. It is, I know, but I can't see why the sorting hat would care about the opinion of a queasy, 11-year-old boy who has never even ridden a broomstick. How does Rose look so unworried, happy even? But I guess _she'll_ be top in everything, she's so smart.

And another problem comes up when I finally get on the train along with all the other students. Where will I sit? I walk with Rose until we find an empty compartment near the back of the train. We offer for James to sit with us too, but a bunch of his friends are already calling for him to sit with them. I am just thinking how nice it will be to at least have the compartment all to ourselves when a dreamy looking girl with waist length dark brown hair comes wandering in.

"Hello", she says in a soft, faraway voice. "I'm Celeste. Celeste Lovegood-Scamander. May I sit here?"

"Of course", Rose replies, smiling warmly at her. "Right, Albus?"

"Wha…oh yeah sure", I mumble. What else could I say?

"I'm Rose", says Rose, "And this is my cousin Albus. We're in first year."

"Oh, me too!", exclaims Celeste happily. "Maybe we will be friends!". Rose and Celeste soon get into a spirited discussion about the existence of nargles and crumple-horned-snorkacks (don't even ask me what those are). I just stare at my shoes, adding in a "mm hmm" or "yeah" whenever necessary. I'm wishing very hard that I weren't the only boy in the compartment.

As if someone is reading my mind, a boy appears outside of our compartment door. I hurriedly open the door to let him in, but when I do I get am disappointed to see that it is Scorpius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy's son. As if the name is not enough to warn people to stay away, Scorpius' dad, Draco, is a scary person. He his colorless white-blond hair just like Scorpius, and I heard that dad and him were the most _awful_ rivals at school. Plus, there are all sorts of strange rumors surrounding him, most of them circling around the withered tattoo of a skull and a snake on his arm. Only most of them don't know that it is the Dark Mark. The symbol of Lord Voldemort's followers, the same dark wizard that Father defeated when he was seventeen.

Scorpius looks like he's been running, and he is breathing heavily. He has a small bit of color in his pale, pointed face, and his light hair is disheveled. He looks inside the compartment, then says, "Can I please sit in here? I've been looking all over for a compartment, and this is the only one with seats left."

_NO!_, I think. _I would rather sit in a cauldron full of toad spleen!_ I am about to say it aloud (not the part about the toad spleen, though), when Rose says, rather shyly, "Sure, come in! But hurry, the train is due to leave any second." And, right after she says that, the whistle blows one last time, and we're off! It's too late to send him out now, I guess.

I look at Scorpius warily, trying to tell what he's thinking about. I'm not the only one: Celeste is looking at everyone in the compartment, memorizing their faces, and Rose is sneaking sideways glances at Scorpius, too. I meet her eyes, and she turns away, blushing a little. Blushing? Since when does Rose blush?

I think quickly, trying to start a conversation before the silence gets even more awkward. Once again, Rose gets there before me.

"This is Celeste and Albus, and I'm Rose. We're in our first year", she says. "And I know who you are, you're Scorpius Malfoy. You'll be in our year?"

He gives a small nod, then reaches down to tie his shoelace, hiding his face. Gradually, Rose and Celeste start up their conversation again, and I sigh. Will I ever be able to find any _real_ friends at Hogwarts?

I think to myself, _This is going to be a long year._

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**A/N: So, how do you like this? Tell me what you think and if I should continue. I would love to hear what you have to say. Free chocolate chip cookie to the first reviewer (ha ha)!**

**Oh and by the way, all you reviewers out there, I need help thinking of a name (but I won't tell you for who!). If people review and send me names/ideas I just might use them, and it would be very much appreciated!**


	3. A new hope

**A/N: This chapter is from Scorpius' point of view. A bit of drabble, I guess, but I think it's not bad.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All I own is my imagination and some of the plot. You know that. I know that. So why is a disclaimer necessary?**

Scorpius PoV:

I knew it. I just knew it.

All the kids in this compartment, and probably the whole entire school hate me. I can see it in his eves, that Albus Potter especially. I bet he's a big prat, an arrogant Gryffindor, and a jerk. It will be so much fun for him and all of the rest of the students to torment Scorpius Malfoy, basically because of his name. My name.

Yes, my name. It may sound strange, but it is really the root of all my problems. And stranger yet, it is not the Scorpius part that is such a problem. If it were, I'd have nothing to worry about from a boy named Albus Severus.

No, my problem is my last name: Malfoy. The trouble is, my dad and my grandfather were also named Malfoy. This may not seem so bad either, so let me explain a little about my father and grandfather.

My father is tall and blond like me. His mouth always has a slight sneer, and although he is never mean and the sneer is just the way his face is, it does not endear him to people. On his left forearm is something that really is the root of all these problems: a tattoo of a skull with a snake in its mouth. People say all sorts of nasty things about this tattoo…but none are as bad as the truth. The truth that Albus Potter will probably spread around the school until every single person knows it. The tattoo is the dark mark, the sign of Lord Voldemort's loyal death eaters. Lord Voldemort, for those who do not know, is the _same exact dark wizard that Harry Potter defeated 19 years ago_. No prizes for guessing whose son Albus Potter is.

That's right, my father was on the opposing side of one of the biggest heroes the wizarding world knows. He was the villain.

It wasn't my father's fault, not really. He was only 16, and it was not his choice. His parents took him, gave him up into Lord Voldemort's service. To his credit, he never liked it and felt right uncomfortable having the choice of which side to be on forced onto him. And he never carried out the cruel plans and orders, stopped short of the soul-splitting act of hatred assigned to him. Even the famous Harry Potter saw fit to save him, not once but twice, when he could have killed him instead.

Besides, my father's only ever been nice to mother and me. He didn't even marry a Slytherin or former death eater, like everyone thought he would. He made a respectable pureblood marriage to a French lady named Raine Bertrand. Mother. If only I could have kept_ her_ last name instead of father's.

As to my grandparents, there is nothing much to say. They were both villains and death eaters to the core. They spent a few years in Azkaban, and, one month after they got out, my grandfather died. My grandmother died a week later. I never knew them.

And so, everyone is bound to think of Scorpius Malfoy as a git and a loser. I'm not _that_ dumb. I can see how Potter is looking at me like a piece of filth. What's-her-name-Lovesgood-Salamander is no better, staring at me like a mildly interesting piece of artwork. But soon enough she stops staring and resumes her conversation with Rose.

Which brings me to Rose. She is a Weasley, blood traitors, my dad says. And her mother was a dirty mudblood. She's probably a stuck-up know-it-all, too. And that bright red Weasley hair down her back, and those clear, thoughtful hazel eyes…

Snap out of it, Scorpius. She doesn't care who you are, you're just the son of scum that tried to kill her mother, father, and uncle.

Suddenly, the train screeches to a stop, and I am abruptly thrown out of my reverie.

I look outside, and guess what's there? A lake, that's what. And how are we supposed to go to school? At the bottom of a lake?

"Firs' years, firs' years over here!", shouts a loud, booming voice.

All the first years crowd around the giant man, who I would later learn is named Hagrid. He leads us to the lake, and in the darkness I can make out a group of small boats.

Rose and Celeste quickly clamber into the nearest boat, followed less eagerly by Albus. The other boats rapidly fill up, and soon I think that I will be left behind by myself.

"Hey, Scorpius! Come in the boat with us!", calls a pretty, sweet voice. Rose motions to the empty seat across from her, so I climb into the boat moments before it takes off for the opposite shore. I can see the entrance to a gigantic stone castle far across the way. Hogwarts.

Inside waiting is a feast for us, and warmth and maybe even friends.

Rose smiles at me, and I feel myself grinning back in return. The smile widens naturally, and Rose looks at me with eyes full of comfort and happiness. It is in truth only a moment before she blinks and looks away, but it is enough.

_Friends_, I think.

_Maybe this year won't be so bad after all._

**A/N: How do you like it? A little Scorpius/Rose, friendship, maybe. Don't kill me or hug me or whatever, I don't know where I'm taking this yet.**

**By the way, Draco's wife is a French girl from Beauxbatons. Pureblood. Her name is: Raine (meaning Queen), and Bertrand (meaning fair complexion, and pure_blood_). **

**Reviews, especially in the form of encouragement or constructive criticism are much, MUCH appreciated. Ideas are always nice too. I want to hear from you! **


	4. The Sorting

**A/N: So, so sorry that this chapter took a while--computer troubles. No fun at all. Plus a lot of planning, work, homework, more homework, you know... But on the bright side, I got the next few chapters written, so they will be up sooner than otherwise. Anyway, enough rambling, and now it is time for_ you_, my friend, to read chapter 3 (3 not counting the prologue--on the little list it is shown as chapter 4--as if the world is not confusing enough) !**

**Disclaimer: "It's mine! All mine! MINE!! Mwa ha ha ha! Mwa HA HA HA!!! I OWN HARRY POTTER!" _Wakes up_. "Oh. Erm. Nope. Not mine." **

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**The Sorting**

Celeste Pov:

"First years, line up here please! No talking!", calls a woman's voice, trying to line up all the new students. Rose whispers that it is Professor McGonigall, who has been in the school since even before our parents (any maybe even grandparents) were here.

"Good luck!", she whispers, and I smile vaguely. I know that it's not luck, really. I believe that the hat simply tells us what we already know in our minds, sort of uncovers it for us. I want to tell my idea to Rose, but she's already been lined up in alphabetical order with the rest of the T-Z's. She might not understand anyway; a lot of people think my ideas are queer. Mother told me that people thought that about her, too, until she became a famous naturalist along with Father. They don't think she's strange any more, so that should have taught them a lesson. But I guess I will probably be called weird until I do something special, too. I don't mind. I'll find a few friends who appreciate me for who I am and I won't care what anyone else says about me.

Now, all the first years are led into a gigantic hall where the rest of the students are watching us. On a three-legged stool in the front of the room is a torn and frayed hat. Suddenly, a rip in the front opens, just like a mouth. Most of the students around me gasp loudly, but I just watch calmly. I expected something like that to happen. After all, they couldn't expect it to just sit there.

After taking a deep breath (Do hats need to breathe?), the hat begins to sing:

"I've said it once, I've said it twice,

and I'll say it once more,

My job is to sort all you kids

into the houses four.

When I'm on your head, I'll peer inside

and tell you what I see

Your inner thoughts and feelings will

tell me where you should be.

For you, will it be Gryffindor

where dwell the brave at heart?

Or will it be Ravenclaw

if you're clever and smart?

If you belong in Hufflepuff

you're hard-working and loyal

And Slytherin's for those who think

that pure blood makes you royal.

But though I've never sorted wrong

I have a warning for you all:

If sorting splits more than unites,

that will be Hogwarts' downfall.

As you stand lined before me

you're united, I can see.

But when I sort you now, I fear,

It will all be history.

Still, I'm here to do my job,

just like the founders said,

so, new students, one and all,

come put me on your head!"

The sorting hat finishes its song, and cheering erupts from the crowd, along with a few whispers among the students. Apparently, I later learn, the hat often gives warnings like this; it's nothing new. I have no time to ponder that now, however, because the sorting has begun!

Professor McGonigall calls out the first name, her voice magically magnified.

"Belden, Louise!" "'HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Eaton, Henry!" "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Erickson, Rebecca!" "RAVENCLAW!"

As each person puts on the hat, it shouts out one of the four houses, and the student goes to join their wildly cheering table.

"Fremont, Cassie" "SLYTHERIN!"

"Jacobson, Michael" "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Jordan, Abbey" "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Jones, Samantha" "RAVENCLAW!"

Oh my gosh, they're getting close to the L's! I can't wait to see which house will be mine. Some people are scared, but I don't see why. I mean, all of the houses are good, right?

"Kellly, Robin" "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Lake, Brian" "SLYTHERIN!"

"Longbottom, Graciela" "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Lovegood-Scamander, Celeste"

I walk up to the stool, listening to the quiet swish of my robes and the thumping of my heart. I reach the stool, sit down, and put on the hat. It is very big, so it almost covers my eyes.

_Aah_ says a voice from inside my head _I think I know just where to put you. A nice mind, I see, and wisdom beyond your years. Just like your mother, always willing to believe in the unbelievable. I suppose...yes. You go in_ RAVENCLAW!

The hat shouts the last work out loud, and one of the tables full of students, the Ravenclaw table, bursts into applause. I walk over, and sit down, smiling serenely, to meet my new house.

Scorpius PoV:

"Longbottom, Graciela" "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Lovegood-Scamander, Celeste" "RAVENCLAW!"

"Malfoy, Scorpius" Holy spell-o-tape, that's me! I still don't understand why our house for the next seven years should be decided by a _hat_, but I guess that's not really important. But I'd rather if we just got to chose ourselves. I put on the hat, and a voice pops into my brain. _Yes, yes, I see it in you. You have many of the qualities, things you do not even know about yourself. But I must say, there is only one house in which you truly belong. _Yes, that's interesting. Whatever. Just what is the house already? Not that I don't really already know. I mean _father_ was-- _yes, you are a _SLYTHERIN! The sorting hat still manages to get a last few words out before I take it off, though. _You are a Slytherin, but it is not because of your father; it's because of _you_, Scorpius._

Hmph. Maybe so. But what use is _that_ if no one believes it?

Albus PoV:

Vicky Morgan is sorted into Slytherin, Jacob Patil is sorted into Gryffindor, and finally, Albus Potter. Wait, Albus Potter??!!!

It makes me jump to hear my name, even though I've been anticipating this moment for hours, days, weeks even. Longer than anyone knows.

All the worries come back full force, and I feel that same shaky desperation and urge to babble that you need to back out that anyone gets before they do something terrifying. BoomBOOMboomBOOMboomBOOM. My heartbeat is filling my ears, and its a wonder no one else hears it. BoomBOOMboomBOOM. I have a sudden desire to run, but instead I force my feet forwards, one step at a time, up to the stool. I lift up the hat and lower it shakily onto my head. Then I hear a voice, that must be the hat. _Albus...Albus Potter. Yes, I remember your father--_great. Lets bring famous dad into the picture. Dad is dad. Albus is Albus. I know I can't compare. OK? _Albus. I _know_ you're not your father. But that is a journey for another time. Right now, about your house--_Here goes...just like I can imagine dad doing. _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not Slytherin_, I think desperately. _Relax, Albus. Not Slytherin. Definitely not, that's not even an option. For you, child, it's _GRYFFINDOR!"

I lift off the hat and, with a grin wider than my entire face, I run to the gold-and-scarlet Gryffindor table. The welcoming cheer that I get sounds like the most wonderful noise in the world. For the first time since the thought of Hogwarts entered my head, I sit down with no fear or worries, only happiness.

Rose PoV:

Albus is in Gryffindor! I'm so happy for him, although I always know that he would be in there. he kept going on and on about Slytherin, all because James was teawing him. He should know by now not to listen to James. I am a little sorry that Celeste was in Ravenclaw, though. I know she's really smart and all, but I did sort of hope that we could be in Gryffindor together. I guess it doesn't really matter; we can still be friends, right?

Back to the sorting: Jeffrey Sheldon was just sorted into Gryffindor, Camryn Shultz into Slytherin, and Julia Trelawney into Ravenclaw.

"Rose Weasley" Professor McGonigall calls my name, and I almost run to put on the hat. _Hmm_, says a voice that I assume belongs to the hat. _I see a good mind, and courage too. Lots of loyalty and fairness, too. So, Rose, don't worry. I know what you're thinking, and I know what's best for you. Better be--_and it shouts the last word out loud.

I take off the hat as studenst applaud for me. I'm so glad that Albus and I are going to be together in Gry...hold that thought!

Holy penguins and applesauce!

The sorting hat just said Hufflepuff.

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**A/N: Dun dun dun...**

**Thanks for reading, and if you don't mind I have a special request for all of you reviewers. Could you please tell me if you know H. Hufflepuff's first name? I thought I knew, but then someone told me something else and now I'm confused! Thanks so much. I know some of you out there hate reviewing, but it would make me reeeeally happy if you did. **

**Please, Thanks and Happy Halloween!!!**

**PS: Oh and by the way, if you review, the next chapter will be out a lot quicker, hint hint wink wink.**


	5. Arguments

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone, blah blah. I'm sorry to those who don't enjoy Rose-is-in-Hufflepuff-fics, because if you've noticed, there's a bit of that in here. But I honestly don't know what's cliche and what's not, so I can only try to write as best as I can. **

**Enjoy the next chapter! **

**Disclaimer: My ownership for Harry Potter is riding a Crumple-horned Snorkack through Times Square.**

"No, no, NO!"

Three heads turned to look at the speaker: a pretty young woman with long waist-length hair, black as a raven's wing.

"What is it, Rowena?", asked a tall man dressed in billowing emerald green robes. He impatiently brushed a strand of dark chocolate-brown hair out of his eyes as he spoke.

"It's obvious, isn't it? She wants to agree with me, seeing as I'm right", said a bold, handsome man with piercing blue eyes and messy light brown hair.

The other man snorted and looked back at Rowena.

"No, I don't agree with Godric", she said. "I think it's stupid to only allow the students who are 'brave-hearted and noble'. They're only children, you know! Besides, since when does one need to be brave in order to learn?"

At the woman's words, Godric looked angrily at his companion, who laughed mockingly.

"I knew she'd agree with me. Only allow the true, respectable purebloods—not that other filth."

At this, Rowena got an indignant look in her eye. "No! For Merlin's sake, Salazar, let me finish and you won't _need_ to hypothesize about what I think. You're being even more ridiculous than Godric. Half-bloods and even muggle-borns can have the same aptitude for magic as the rest of us. I say take the brightest, smartest students into the school. Those are the ones who really will go far!"

At this, both Godric and Salazar rolled their eyes as if to dismiss her words without another thought.

"No, really!", protested Rowena angrily.

Within seconds, another heated argument broke out, really just another branch of an argument that had been going on for days on end.

"Oh, stop it, all of you!", exclaimed the fourth companion. She had been gazing contentedly at the sunny blue sky, green hills, and shimmering silver lake. She turned around, her wavy strawberry-blond hair whipping around her face and dancing in the breeze.

"Ah, she speaks! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten how, said Salazar sarcastically.

"So what do _you_ think, Helga?", asked Godric.

Three pairs of eyes were on the usual peacemaker, who finally seemed to be stating an opinion. "First, I think you should all stop fighting. We're _friends_, and that should come before everything." Everyone nodded, knowing that this was the expected response from Helga. Then, she continued, "But if you ask my opinion, I think you should let them all in; all the young witches and wizards who would like to come. Treat them all kindly and equally, and just see if they don't all amount to something someday."

None of the other three agreed with Helga, and once more the argument broke out, each person speaking a little louder, trying to be heard. Helga kept trying to keep everyone calm, but Godric and Salazar especially had trouble with the concept, so eventually she gave up.

Finally, someone had the idea to split the school into four parts, one for each belief of the founders. One for the bravest students, one for the conniving ones with purest blood, one for the brightest children and one that would admit anyone, if they were fair and hard-working. Everyone seemed fairly happy with this compromise, although everyone (Godric and Salazar especially) looked as if they would have liked better to get their own way completely. However, there was no time to argue because another problem arose quickly.

"How in Merlin's name will we know which house the students belong in?", pointed out Salazar. "It's not like they come with big white labels on their foreheads marked 'pureblood' 'noble' or 'muggle born'."

"I've got that all figured out, 'zar", said Godric with a smile.

"_Don't_ call me Zar", growled Salazar. The two friends went through this at least once a day.

"OK...How about Sal?"

"No"

"Lazar?"

"_No_"

"Daddy-O?"

"NO"

"Sally?"

"NO!!!!"

"As you were saying, Godric?", cut in Rowena. If she had not, the argument likely would have gone on until Salazar decided to hit Godric with a hex to semi-permanently glue his mouth closed.

"What? Oh, yes. Right. I have that problem all figured out, and it all starts out with this hat", he said, waving his hand at a tall, black, pointed hat on the ground near his left knee.

"Aww, not that horrid hat. Must you always bring it up?", complained Salazar.

"I like to think that it's got memories of everywhere I've taken it", replied Godric and the polite and calm voice that irritated Salazar more than anything (except for nicknames). "Anyway, Rowena can put some brains in it and then it can look into the students' heads, see all their thoughts, and tell where they should be."

Godric expected Salazar to jump on him because his idea was stupid. He expected Rowena to say it wasn't possible. He expected Helga to say that it was a violation of the students' rights. He expected a lot of things, but the one thing he did not expect was for everyone, after a moment of thought, to congratulate him on his great idea. But that was exactly what they did.

And so the sorting hat was born.

**A/N: Constructive criticism? Questions? Comments? Yep, all those are appreciated.**

**And now I would like to dedicate the chapter to the following:**

**To all the victims of the fires in California, who have their lives collapse on them and can't do anything about it.**

**And to the memory of all the victims of the Triangle Fire in New York City in 1911. **


	6. Second thoughts

**A/N: Here is the next chapter, and I would like to thank all of my reviewers and readers: you are the greatest! And by the way I know that the summary for the story might not exactly fit the chapters so far, but don't worry it will, eventually. I actually have a whole plotline fairly much figured out for this. And I will update whenever possible, but with school and work and another story to update, I can't promise more than once a week. (Although I'll definitely try for more than that).  
And now, without further ado (that's a strange word, ado) I will finish this boring author's note and let you get on to the story.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling in disguise. Sorry to burst your bubble.**

Celeste PoV:

As I settle down at the Ravenclaw table, near two other first year girls named Julia Trelawney and Rebecca Erickson, I look for the first time to the teachers at the front of the room. There is a whole line of them, sitting at a long table in view of all the students.

One of them, an auburn-haired, medium height witch, stands up and mutters, "Sonorus" to magnify her voice. I think that she is probably someone important, so I take a careful look at her. Her hair sparkles in the light from torches on the walls, and she looks both young and old at the same time. She has amber eyes, tanned skin, long earrings dangling down from her earlobes, and seems to radiate energy. Then, the woman begins to speak, and for some unexplainable reason I get the impression that this is a person who I can trust completely.

"Hello, students. For those of you who do not know me, I am Chava Jordans, or Professor Jordans to you. I am the headmistress of Hogwarts, and I would like to welcome all of you back to another year of learning. I would just like to say a few words before you can all begin the feast. First, introducing our professors. Professor Flitwick, the Charms Professor-" a short man raises a hand- "Professor McGonigall, the Transfiguration Professor-" the tall, strict looking witch who we met before the sorting nods-"Professor Norway, the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures Professor..." The list goes on until Professor Jordans has named all of the teachers. "I would also like to give the students a few reminders. The Forbidden Forest is, surprise, forbidden to any students who may feel the urge to visit it. Forbidden, too, are a long list of objects, including but not limited to all inapropriate Weasleys Wizard Wheezes products. Also, Quiddich tryouts will begin on Friday, open to any students who would like to attend. Now, without any further interruptions, it's time for the feast!"

The golden plates suddenly fill with food, and everyone becomes too busy eating to pay attention to anything else. Once the meal is almost over, the other girls my age at the table start up a conversation. Rebecca is talking non-stop about her father at the ministry, which has really become quite boring. I take out my copy of the Quibbler, since I didn't get to read on the train like I planned, and start reading, although I still am half-listening to the conversation.

"So, do you have any brothers or sisters here?", Rebecca asks Julia once she finishes talking.

"No, I'm the oldest child in my family. My aunt works here, though", answers Julia.

"Really? Who's your aunt?", I ask, looking up from the Quibbler.

"Professor Trelawney. She teaches divination. She's a bit strange, but awfully nice", says Julia.

"Wow, that's so cool!", says Rebecca. "What about you, Celeste? Who are your parents anyway?"

I answer with pride, _"_My parents are famous naturalists. Ever heard of Luna Lovegood and Rolf Scamander? They look all over the world for rare creatures, like the crumple horned Snorkacks and winged kneasles!"

Rebecca and Julia look a little confused by this, but I guess they don't know as much about magical creatures as I do, seeing how I grew up with naturalists as parents. Then I add, "And my grandfather owns the Quibbler", and point to the magazine that I laid on the table. They must have heard of _that_ at least.

"The Quibbler?", asks Rebecca with a strange look on her face. "Oh. _That._"

"Mmmm...", I say. I'm too busy reading page 14 and wondering how mother and father are doing in Sweden on their hunt for the rare galloping plimpies to pay any more attention to Rebecca and Julia. Still, I can see over the top of the magazine. And what I see is two girls whispering to each other and mouthing the word 'wierdo'.

Oh, well. Whoever said I wanted to be friends with_ them, _anyway?

I finish the magazine just as the two Ravenclaw prefects, Shannon Whitney and Jonathan Davis, come to take us to the common room and dormitories. Halfway up the long staircase that leads to the Ravenclaw tower, Professor Flitwick (he's the head of our house) joins us.

Suddenly, a stone eagle comes to life, asking "What gets larger the more you tak out of it?" Professor Flitwick answers (a hole, obviously), and the eagle nods majestically (I'm not entirely sure how a stone eagle can nod majestically, but this one seems to have managed it). A door opens, and we step into an amazing common room, decorated with midnight blue and bronze banners, and a domed ceiling painted with stars. There are light blue armchairs around the circular room, but best of all, the walls are lined with books. I think I even see one of the books mother and father wrote among them: 'Imaginary Creatures (or so people think) and How to Find Them'. I make a mental note to look through all the books later.

I follow the rest of the girls into the dormitory, take a bed, unpack my trunks, and then climb into bed, not caring to talk to anyone else at the moment. I fall asleep in a matter of minutes, a vague smile still lingering halfheartedly on my face.

**A/N: And now it's time for the chapterly plea: REVIEWS PLEASE!! I love reviews, yes maybe I am even obsessed with reviews. But, come on, how will I ever improve if I don't get any feedback here? Because the only other way is to physically ask someone, in person, and I totally don't have the self-confidence for that.**

**Oh and by the way, if you are a regular reviewer you don't have to pay attention to my pleas, just give yourself a round of applause or some applesauce or a cookie or something.**


	7. Nighttime wandering

**A/N: Wow, lots of reviews all at once, thanks so much to Griffindoor777 and Evenstart606. So I figured my readers out there deserve a new chapter. And here it is! Yep, it's Rose PoV, which should not come as a surprise, seeing how I left her back a few chapters ago. I'm not going to bother apologizing for the delay, since I seem to do so very often, but just know that I'm not giving up on it if it takes a while to be updated.  
**

**Disclaimer: The day I own Harry Potter is the day that it turns out that the giant squid is really Professor Flitwick in animagus form.**

Rose PoV:

I'm in shock. At least, I think that's what they call it when something happens that you can't believe, and so while you try to figure it all out, the rest of the world passes under your nose without a second thought. I certainly got enough of a shock, anyway.

The feast, the headmistress' speech, the rest of the sorting; it all slid by as if I were in a trance. I was sitting at the wrong table. It should have been Gryffindor.

I ate a little, not tasting anything in my mouth, not talking to any of my fellow students. I was eating with the wrong friends. They should have been the Gryffindors.

Professor Sprout collected the house and led us through a round passageway into the large yellow and black common room. I was in the wrong common room. It should have been gold and scarlet.

I picked out a bed once I reached the dormitories, and immediately crawled in it, pulling the blankets up over my head. It should all be Gryffindor, not Hufflepuff.

I should come out to talk to people, all the people who will be my roommates whether I like it or not, but I can't. I am trying to sort everything out, and things keep rushing through my mind. I see Albus' face, his look of happiness vanishing to be replaced by surprise. His eyes were wide open and his mouth was hanging half-open, momentarily frozen in mid sentence. It's funny how some details stand out so clearly while the rest of the night was just and indistinguishable blur.

Now, Albus' face has been replaced by James' who at the time was returning from his second year of Hogwarts. He was taunting Albus about being sorted into--gasp--Hufflepuff or Slytherin. Imagine, the dishonor of Albus, from a family of true Gryffindors, being sorted into Hufflepuff--It would have been unbearable, I think glumly. It was the very worst insult and the scariest notion that James could think of to tell Albus, and he was right--Albus was scared until the very moment he was sorted into Gryffindor. I wasn't scared. I should be a Gryffindor.

James' face disappears, and now it is replaced by Daddy, smiling, his bright red hair echoed by tons of other redheaded children and adults. He's speaking to me now, his voice echoing in my head more than it ever did in real life. _If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disown you…disown you…disown you…If you're not in Gryffindor…GRYFFINDOR…_

I turn over, hiding my head under the pillow, pulling the blankets more securely under my head, anything at all to banish the disturbing thoughts wandering through my head.

I hear the sorting hat too, mingling with Daddy's voice: I know what's best for you Rose, don't worry.

Don't worry? Ha.

There's tons to worry about. A single terrifying thought enters my mind. How do I tell Daddy and Mother?

They'll hate me, or they'll be disappointed in me, and I'm not sure which one is worse. Not Gryffindor, not even Ravenclaw; those wouldn't be so bad. But Hufflepuff? What's Hufflepuff? Hard-working, loyal, "all the rest". Would you rather be smart, brave, even ambitious, or "all the rest"?

Mother and Daddy told me to send them an owl, telling them everything. What do I say? Do I ignore it, pretend everything's fine without ever actually mentioning it? That's ridiculous, I could never hide something like that from them. Do I just tell them the truth and hope for the best? That idea sounds even worse. I feel sick. I think I have a fever, but maybe it's just because I've been hiding under all the heavy blankets for a while now.

I peek my head out of my cocoon, and look around. Everyone else has already come to bed and fallen asleep. I quietly put on my slippers, and tiptoe out of the room, doubly conscious of every slight creak of the floorboards beneath the faded carpet. I make my way slowly to the door, noticing a sudden chill in the air.

I pass through the deserted common room, and leave through the passageway where we entered. I don't know where I'm going, I just need to get a breath of fresh air, and to rid my mind of the guilt and worries that are circling through it.

I walk down empty corridors, past deserted classrooms, taking random and meaningless turns and occasionally tiptoeing down a flight of stairs. I'm enjoying the quiet, the aloneness, although there is something a little bit eerie about being on my own in in this gigantic castle. I vaguely wonder what would happen if a teacher were to find me, since I am usually one not to break the rules, but I am so small and the castle so big that it seems unlikely.

Suddenly, I hear a quiet shuffling noise from behind me, and I am so surprised that I almost screamed. Oh, no. If I've been found, I'll be in trouble before my first day at Hogwarts is even over!

I whirl around, and to my surprise, I see--"Scorpius?", I whisper.

"R-Rose? What are you doing so near to the Slytherin dungeons, wandering around alone at night? You could get caught, don't you know anything?", he answers.

"I..well...I couldn't sleep. To tell you the truth, I was too upset. I'm not sure what my parents will think about mebeinginHufflepuff." I mumble the last words, but Scorpius seems to hear me anyway.

"I don't see anything so bad about---", he starts. I cut him off. "You remember who my parents are?". "Oh".

There is a silence as we both stop talking, becoming more and more awkward the longer no one breaks it. It is finally broken by the sound of a low voice mumbling to itself.

"Shoot. Rose, that's the bloody baron, you'd better get back to your dormitory", says Scorpius.

I turn around and start walking away, only looking back once to see Scorpius shuffling slowly off to nowhere in particular. It occurs to me that I never asked him what he was doing out of bed.

I try to remember where I came from, and eventually I find the Renaissance painting behind which lies the common room. Luckily, I left it partway open when I left, since I have no idea what the password is.

I tiptoe quietly back into the dormitory, and finally I shakily lie back down on the bed.

Sleep finally takes me, giving me calm dreams to substitute for reality, even if they last only until the morning.

A/N: I really need to know what you think about this one, since the way I wrote it is a little different from usual. Review!!!!


	8. Wizard duel

**A/N: Here is the next chapter, which I was afraid I would not be able to post for a very long time. And my fears have come true. Why? Because I, being the smart one that I am, lost my notebook where I write all my chapters before typing them. I am so mad at myself for that...but since you are only reading this for the actual story, not the random ramblings of this strange person who is not really named 17ginny17 but will not tell you her real name, I (she?) will stop complaining and let you continue to chapter 9.**

**Oh, and by the way, I think I should clarify something, because reading back, I got awfully confused myself: The first day of Hogwarts, September 1st, was a Thursday. This probably does not matter a lot, but just in case anyone was wondering with all my "on Friday...", "this Wednesday..." 's, there you go. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hedwig, Harry Potter does. But Hedwig died and I don't own Harry Potter either. So sad...**

Scorpius PoV:

I'm walking down the deserted corridor, long after I'm supposed to be in bed. My footsteps, although they are as quiet as I can manage, seem loud in contrast to the deep silence around me. If I am found here, I'll be in trouble for sure--maybe even expelled! How did I get myself into this mess?

Actually, I know exactly how, and I don't like it.

The night started off well enough. After the sorting hat put me in Slytherin, I walked smugly down to my table, putting the last confusing sentence as far back into my mind as I could. I mean, hello, who needs to think about a hat's stupid cryptic messages when you could be gloating that you're now a part of the noblest house ever?

So everything was going pretty well. I took a seat by another first year Slytherin named Brian Lake, and we watched the rest of the sorting, which was actually pretty boring. You know, arrogant goody-goodies in Gryffindor, braniacs to Ravenclaw, some really cool people to Slytherin...and Rose to Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff with the people who aren't important enough to get into any other house. It was stupid of me, but for a second I was really hoping that she might get into Slytherin. Of course, that would be a stretch, especially knowing her parents...but _Hufflepuff_? _No_ _one_ wants to go there.

I guess its a good thing, really, so I'll stop being deluded now. Seriously, a _Weasley_? My _friend_? Even if she weren't in Hufflepuff, I shudder to think what father would say.

I chat with some of the other Slytherins, and the feast passes without any other interesting occurrences. Unless, of course, you cont a fat second year stuffing his face until he turns an ugly shade of green and rushes off to the bathrooms, his hands covering his mouth. Which I certainly don't.

When the feast was over, we all filed out of the Great Hall. Brian and I were squashed into the gigantic sea of people, right up against a group of Gryffindors.

"Ugh!", says Brian to me quietly. "I hate how all those stupid Gryffindor prats think they're so bloody great. They're all bloody stupid anyway." I try to ignore the fact that Brian has a newfound obsession with the words 'bloody' and 'stupid', and focus instead on the more important subject of Gryffindor vs. Slytherin hatred.

"Yeah", I agree, not bothering to keep the sneer out of my voice. "And I've heard that they even let in dirty Mudbloods, blood traitors, and their children. What a disgrace!" I sneak a look over to the offending Gryffindors, and to my horror, who is staring back but Albus Potter. Who has apparently been hanging on to every word we said, and is now looking at me with an expression that is a mix of loathing and hurt. Too bad for him, that's what he gets for eavesdropping.

"You Slytherins are all the same", says Albus. "I--I thought that maybe it was different for--for people but--" His voice gets a little stronger, "But you're not. You're all the same, just jerks who enjoy hurting other people. That's right, you're a jerk, Scorpius Malfoy, just like your father and grandfather."

Potter finishes his little rant, and looks a little afraid of himself. That's right, you'd better be scared, because NO ONE calls Scorpius Malfoy a jerk.

"Yeah, and what are you?", I retort with my best imitation of my father's angry drawl. "Your relatives are blood traitors, and your aunt is a Mudblood. And your cousin is a stupid, useless Hufflepuff, who couldn't even get into Gryffindor" I know I've gone too far, but I just can't stop. "And you, Potter, what are you? You're nothing, nothing at all and even less than one grain of nothing next to your father."

Albus looks at me with eyes so full of hatred that I have to look away. I try to understand how this even became a shouting match in the now-mostly-empty Great Hall, but I don't come up with anything except for a deep hatred for the son of the man my father hated.

That annoying McGonigall starts calling to round up all the straggling students, so I hurriedly whisper to Albus, "Fine, then. A wizard duel tonight. Just like our fathers. Be there at 12:00...if you're not too scared"

Albus shakes his head, and then answers slowly, "No...not scared. I'll be there, but I don't think you mean 'just like our fathers'"

"What, your father too _noble_ to tell you about that little experience?", I say.

"No", Albus responds. "But that time, your father was too scared to show up"

Oooh, that hurt.

"Well, I'll be there. But by the time it's over, you'll wish I hadn't", I sneer, and then run off to catch up with Brian and Professor Norway (He's the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor, and apparently also the head of Slytherin) I manage to get out one last sentence, no more than a whisper. "By the dungeons--midnight"

And that was the last I said. I followed quietly to the common room, chatted and pretended to sleep until almost midnight, and then snuck out of my common room. I waited in the cold, empty hallway, and a shiver ran through my body that had nothing to do with the cold. I was beginning to think that I would be standing alone all night long when a glimpse of red around the corner caught my eye. "R...Rose?"

She looked a mess. Her hair was sticking up in a frizzy cloud, and her eyes were tired and red from crying. Is she crazy? What's she doing here? This is not good.

Rose tells me her little story about how sad she is, et cetera. I barely listen, because I'm remembering my words to Albus from before '...stupid, useless Hufflepuff...' Not that I'm _sorry_ or anything, it's just, it's hard to remember that she's nothing but a stupid Hufflepuff when she's practically pouring out her troubles to me. Really, I should be thinking about more important things. Like the wizard duel coming up, because the truth is, well, I have no idea how to duel. And that rather large problem has been coming closer and closer, until it now it is practically staring me in the eye.

"Mmhmm...that doesn't seem so bad", I mutter, not thinking. _Wow_, I tell myself, inwardly chuckling at my preoccupied response_. Imagine if Father could see me say _that

Rose stops talking, maybe looking for a response, but I just can't pay attention. Suddenly, I hear another pair of quiet footsteps: Albus. Shoot. I've got to get rid of Rose!

"Er...Rose, I think that's the bloody baron, you'd better go", I whisper. Yeah, yeah, I know that ghosts don't have footsteps, but it was the first thing I could think of, and it worked, so who's complaining? Rose hurries off, and not a second too late, because Albus comes into view just as I see the last of the unkempt fire that is her hair.

I slowly approach Albus, and his flashlight **(A/N: I'm assuming that underage wizards who don't know magic use muggle flashlights instead of 'lumos')** momentarily blinds me. Once my eyes adjust a little bit, I notice that I can actually see where I am; small details like the notice on the wall (Quidditch Tryouts Tomorrow) and the contours of the stone wall stand out sharply. I frantically grab my wand out of my pocket, although fat lot of good it will do me now. Albus does the same, and I start to get the idea that he is just as clueless as I am. Just then, a strike of fate, or maybe bad luck, or maybe even good luck occurs.

Albus drops his flashlight onto the marble floor, and it clatters and goes spinning around before flickering off. Cloaked in the darkness around me, I run. I have no idea which way is up or left or near to the common rooms, but that does not stop me from fleeing the last place I saw Albus. I hear him run off, too, eventually. And so here I am now: cold, alone, and lost.

I feel along the damp walls, and finally I feel the entrance hole. I climb in, legs still shaking, and make my way toward the bed. My eyelids droop like they have heavy weights attached, and the distance to the bed turns from feet to miles. The darkness finally encloses me completely, and I think no more.

The next thing I know, a piercing light is escaping into my tightly closed eyelids, and a weirded-out student is asking why in the world I am laying on the floor, only inches from my bed, using a shoe for a pillow.

_Grrrrr..._

**A/N: So there you go: the next chapter. And boy, am I tired. I've been staring at this screen for waaaaaaaaaaay to long. Anyways, tell me if you liked the chapter, what you think, et cetera. Yay, go me for writing this chapter for a second time! (Stupid notebook--why'd it have to go and get lost on me?)**

**PS: I dedicate this chapter to FaNgizzoKool, Happy Birthday!**


	9. That stupid man

**A/N: Hi! So sorry that I didn't get this out earlier, but once again lots of things came up. And then I had to write a chapter for my other story, Gred and Forge: The story with no title. And then I started writing a chapter that I realized I couldn't use until next chapter. Oh, well, enough excuses, and read the chapter! **

**Disclaimer: There is no "I" in Harry Potter's owner.**

Godric couldn't stand that idiot man one day longer.

Not one day, not one hour, not one minute. With all his _blood_ and _lineage_ and _I'm-better-than-you_...That stupid man never learned, never cared to understand.

Godric thought the two of them could still be friends, work out their differences, and reach a compromise. He was willing to give up his side of the argument, accept the agreement they had come upon, but that _idiot man_ backed out. That man said he 'just could not be a part of an institute that would allow the principles that he worked so hard to put an end to'.

_Principles, what principles?_, Godric thought. _The principles of violence, hatred, and discrimination?_ Those were not principles, but sins. How could the man not see that? Godric had even given in on a few of his own demands in favor of harmony and getting along. So why couldn't his companion?

Godric stood up and looked out the window at the man outside, his friend since long ago, for whom he now felt a strong, burning anger. He got up and walked out of the building, the building which all of them had helped create with their own hands and wands.

"Salazar.", Godric said, more of a command than anything.

"Yes?", sneered the man, turning around. "Trying to convince me again of your noble, selfless opinion? Give it up, Godric, it's rubbish. There's only one thing that matters, and you know full well what it is"

Godric replied, trying unsuccessfully to keep the anger out of his voice. "No, I have long given up on the hope of keeping Hogwarts open only to the noblest of students. I have come to ask if you have revised _your_ views, in favor of a compromise?" Godric said the last word with sarcasm, and both men already knew what the answer would be. Then, more seriously, "Please? For old time's sake, for the sake of all those children out there who we are trying to help?". Almost a whisper: "Please?"

"No, I cannot Godric. Face it. Muggle borns are not like us. They're just not, and never will be, and until you accept that I'm afraid we cannot get along", said Salazar coldly. His face and hard gray eyes betrayed no emotion or hint that any feeling had penetrated through him.

_Is this really the man I was once friends with?_, thought Godric. _This isn't the way it was meant to turn out. We were supposed to be friends…best friends. _

"No, we cannot get along", Godric said slowly, his voice rising with each word, "Because you are a stupid, discriminating, prejudiced madman. Words don't even describe it. You're horrible, you—" Godric's voice had now reached almost a shout, and abandoning words, he pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at Salazar.

"Ah, Godric, you don't really want to do that, do you? Let your anger keep you from seeing the truth, and destroy a most valuable friendship?", said Salazar smoothly and nonchalantly.

Godric, his face stony and silent, stopped for a moment, lost in thought, and then slowly and deliberately lowered his wand. Before Salazar could get out the words on his lips, however, Godric cut in sharply, "But don't give me your conniving words and gloating, Salazar, for it is not for you that I do this. It is for the school, and the children, and that alone. Nothing more, nothing less!"

With that, Godric walked away, a strange hollow feeling in his heart. He wanted to turn around and look back at the man who he knew he shouldn't care about. His best friend, turned into the _enemy_…Godric hated that word, but it was certainly how things felt between the men those days.

He walked into his office, a comfortable red and gold room that he had taken an unusually strong liking to. He sat down on a cushioned chair, his favorite one, near his phoenix, Fawkes. Even the strong and majestic bird was looking sickly these days. Godric started as the bird burst into bright gold flames, then sat back down as the bird, now young and small, was reborn from the dark ashes.

After a few minutes of staring into space, Godric still felt restless and confused. He should have hexed Salazar while he had the chance, forget about harmony and peace.

He got up and walked towards the big wooden door, the one with the griffin door-knocker (a little play on words that he thought of himself). As he passed by, the big black hat that used to belong to him caught his eye.

"If you put so much as one person in Slytherin…", he growled at the hat, trying to vent his anger on something inanimate. The rip that looked suspiciously like a mouth opened wide, and said simply, "I cannot choose where the children belong, only where they are placed."

Godric jumped, having forgotten that the hat could actually hear him. Then, he frowned and walked out of the door, trying to remember just where he wanted to go.

**A/N: So, there you go. Another founder glimpse: I'm sorry if you don't like it, but please keep reading, and the next few will be normal. Now I would really like it if you would review! It makes me really happy to know that someone is reading this, and what they think of it. That includes all of you out there who have me on your _story alert list_ or even _author alert list _and _never review_! Grrr! **

**On that note, have a Happy Hanukkah, or an early Merry Christmas, or a general Happy Holidays, or just a nice day!**

**:-D**


	10. Quiddich

**A/N: Aaaaaaah! What is this? Could it be...the _next chapter_??? It is! I am so sorry that I took so long to write it, but I had absolutely zero time to write over the past month or so.  
Anyway, if you are reading this, then you have not yet given up on the story, so thanks for reading, and now please proceed to the story. **

**Disclaimer: This story is my own creation, but the characters, situations, and a whole lot of plot belong to J. K. Rowling.** **Anyone who says otherwise is selling something. :-p**

Albus PoV:

I had the _strangest_ dream last night. I was running along a dark hallway, frantically trying to escape from something…and something about a wizard duel—with Scorpius Malfoy.

Blimey, that was real wasn't it? Which would explain why I am waking up exhausted and fully dressed with a wand in my hand. Oh well, at least I wasn't caught, and didn't do anything stupid--well, except for dropping the flashlight and not knowing the first thing about dueling and...OK, the whole thing was pretty stupid. I admit it.

"Hey, Al!", I hear a girl's voice say. I grunt slightly and pull the bedcovers a bit higher over my head. Now a boy's voice joins in: "Albus, come _on_!"

"All right, all right, I'm coming!", I grumble. I force open my eyes and blink a few times in the bright morning light. My eyes finally focus on the people standing near the bed. Who are they? They look like...little blurs in the shape of people.

I reach out my left hand and feel around for my glasses. I locate them and put them on my face. Much better.

One of the people shaped blobs turns into Gracie Longbottom as I put on the glasses. Okay, that's good. I've known her for just about _ever_. Her dad., Professor Longbottom, is an old friend of dad and mum's--you know how it is. The other one, though--who is that? I sort through my brains and finally come up with Henry. Oh yeah, now I remember: Henry Eaton. We met last night, at the feast, before the...incident.

"Come on! We have Quiddich lessons in fifteen minutes, and then we have to try out! Come quickly, we might miss it", says Henry. I groan again. Quiddich Tryouts Tomorrow. The piece of parchment taped to the stone wall comes back vividly to my memory. No, I'm not going to think about that any more. As far as anyone is concerned, that was a dream and nothing more.

I put a smile on my face and try to look excited at the idea of embarrassing myself in front of an entire Quiddich pitch. "I _guess_", I say, "But what if I don't make the team?" Of course, I know what the answer will be. I've heard it too many times before: 'But your _father_ was such a wonderful player, and your mother too, she played on the _Holyhead Harpies_, for Merlin's sake.' I don't want to hear it. I'll just be embarrassed in front of my new friends when I have to explain yet again that I don't contain any of the genes for greatness or bravery or talent. Honestly, I'm still surprised that I even got into Gryffindor.

"Just try", says Gracie, "No one cares if you don't get in—you have nothing to lose". This takes me so much by surprise that I forget to make an excuse as to why I can't try out today.

"Brilliant", says Henry, taking my lack of protest for a yes.

Not too long later, we rush down to the Great Hall, where all the early-rising students are eating breakfast. I have managed an at least halfway-decent attitude (maybe even a _little_ excited) about tryouts. Plus, I'm a Gryffindor, I have two new friends, my older brother is nowhere in sight, and I have even managed to get my messy black hair somewhat under control. All seems to be well in the world of Al Severus Potter.

I finish my breakfast, and Gracie, Henry, and I hurry outside. We walk out to the Quiddich pitch, where other first year students are starting to gather. I marvel at the field and grounds. The Quiddich pitch seems gigantic from the ground, and weather is perfect—sunny and warm with a slight breeze. Yes, all is definitely well.

That is, until Scorpius Malfoy walks by. Merlin, that's the very last person I want to see, although I should have known he'd be here—Quiddich lessons that come before tryouts are for Gryffindor and Slytherin together. I avoid Scorpius' eyes, and he seems just as keen to ignore me, for the moment. He walks over to Henry, who is sitting to my right.

"You trying out for the team?", he sneers. "Yeah, why?", Henry replies, with no idea why a random Slytherin is singling him out.

"Me too. I just wanted to know what I'm up against…and if it's you three"—he gestures to Henry, Gracie and me--, "then Slytherin is sure thing for the house cup. That is, if you even make the team. Which you obviously won't".

Henry looks bewildered. I can almost see it written on his face: what have you got against _me_? I hope the answer in my mind is not so obvious: 'It's not _you_, Henry, it's your friend Albus'.

"Yeah, Henry and Al are trying out for the Gryffindor team. Now shove off, Scorpius", says Gracie. "It'll be a miracle if you even manage to stay on your broom!"

"What's that, coming from a _Longbottom_?", laughs Scorpius. "Last time I checked, you--"

"I said, SHOVE OFF!", yells Gracie. Scorpius just gives another derisive laugh and walks away, trailed by his stupid looking Slytherin friend.

"What's up with him?", asks Henry.

"Just forget it," says Gracie. "My dad told me that there would be people like that—he said that you just have to remember that you're worth 10 of them. Come on now, it looks like Madam Hooch is starting the lesson". After a few moments of thought, she looks back and repeats "10 of them", in Scorpius' direction.

The three of us walk over to join the crowd of Slytherin and Gryffindor first years near Madame Hooch. She begins the lesson as soon as we arrive.

"For those of you who do not know, I am Madame Hooch. I am here to teach you the basics of how to safely ride brooms—I will also be Quiddich referee and will assist with first year tryouts", she says. Then, she divides the group of students into two neat lines, one for Slytherin and one for Gryffindor. I was hoping to do the lessons with Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff instead, but things just never can be that easy.

Madame Hooch hands each student a broom—Comet 540's. They're a bit old, and not nearly as good as James' Nimbus 2020, but just having a broom in my hand is awesome in itself. "Now, put your hand over a broom, and shout 'up'. If you do it properly, you should be able to catch the broom as it rises to you", she instructs us.

A loud chorus of "up!"s breaks out, with few real successes. Mine jumps off the ground on the third try, though, and Henry's a moment after. I see Gracie trying, annoyed, to get her broom off the ground; I think that it can probably hear the slight note of fear in her voice. Of course, some people get it more quickly, and some not at all. I search the Slytherin line for Scorpius—unfortunately, he got it on the first try, but he missed catching the broom so it hit him on the nose. That serves him right! I stifle a laugh, knowing that it will only cause more trouble.

Once most of the students have either caught their brooms or surreptitiously bent down and picked them up off the ground, Madam Hooch intervenes. "Now, on the count of three, mount your brooms—one…two…three!" At this last command, each person puts a careful leg over the broom handle, and is promptly whisked a few feet into the air. I hear a few "oh!"s of surprise from some students; mostly the muggle-born students or the ones with overprotective parents. As for me, of course I've had toy broomsticks, and a few rides on James' when he lets me, but a few minutes in the air hanging on to the broom for dear life is very different from an actual lesson--this is great!

"Rise a few feet into the air, and control the broom. Just tilt the handle slightly to turn…" Madam Hooch tells us.

She steps onto her own broom—a shiny Comet 650—and hovers slightly above the mass of students, so as to keep an eye on us. The rest of the lesson passes fairly uneventfully, although almost everyone has tumbled off his or her broom at least one. A gust of wind suddenly blows from nowhere, whipping long hair into most girls' faces and sending a few students clear off of their brooms. Madame Hooch finally calls an end to the lesson, and shows the class how to land and demount safely.

Everyone is breathing heavily, and all around me I see pink-tinged faces, tangled hair, and in some, a certain thankfulness to be back safely on the ground. Madam Hooch tries to regain some order within the group of chatting students. "Before you go", she half-shouts over various student conversations, "I should just remind you of Quiddich Tryouts. They will be held in about 5 minutes for anyone who is interested, preceded by an explanation of the game by the team captain for anyone who wishes. Ravenclaw and Huffelpuff tryouts and lessons will be held directly afterwards, so don't linger around once you have tried out. That being said, _now_ you may go".

Most of the students wander off, engrossed in various conversations, but a handful of people, Henry and me included, remain to try out. A few of those gymnastic butterflies in my stomach are returning, but I try to squash them down. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

"Good luck!", Gracie says, and walks over to the stands where a few spectators are watching. Henry and I look around to see who's here. Mostly people I don't know, but a few stand out—Scorpius and his friend, of course, some Ravenclaws I know in passing (though not that strange girl from the train), and…Rose?

"Hold on a second", I tell Henry as I run across the pitch to Rose. "Hey, Rose! What are you doing here...are you trying out? How do you like Hogwarts?--", I begin. In a second, I stop mid-question.

"Rose--Rose! What's wrong?" This is not the Rose I have known for the past eleven years. Her eyes and nose are puffy and red. It looks like she cried all night instead of sleeping! This is _not_ the Rose I know.

"Well, you see...", she begins hesitantly. Just at that moment, though, Madame Hooch yells out to all the students on the pitch, her voice magically magnifieed. "EVERYONE TRYING OUT FOR QUIDDICH, JOIN ME HERE IMMEDIATELY!"

I turn to look just for a second, but when I look back, Rose has begun to walk away. "Wait, Rose! What's wrong?", I ask, jogging to catch up to her. She shakes me away. "Nothing. I'm just worried about...classes. Jillian Thomas said Astronomy's real hard. That's it...its nothing". Before I can answer, Rose walks briskly away, and Madame Hooch yells again to start tryouts. I join up with Henry, while Gracie looks on from the stands. Eventually, tryouts begin, Gryffindor's with the team's head chaser; Terri Wood. Henry and I cross our fingers and mount our brooms to begin tryouts.

I'm nervous, like everyone else here, but another feeling is surfacing even above that. Again, I am worried--but this time it's for Rose.

**A/N: Yay! Another chapter done! I'm not that happy with it and it took altogether too long to write even when I did sit down to work on it, but who knows? Maybe you all will like it! Do you readers like long chapters??? I won't know unless you review and tell me!**


	11. TEMPORARY CHAPTER

To whom it may concern: (meaning whoever has been reading this story)

I should start off by saying that I am very sorry that I just stopped writing chapters for you guys without any notice. I have been meaning to continue and then I have no time and...yeah. Enough excuses. The story is TEMPORARILY stopped where it is. I still hope to continue it. For the moment, though, I can't promise anything. So any readers out there, if you want, put me on your 'story alert list'. I really really hope to be able to get out some more chapters...unfortunately I don't know when.

Sincerely

_17ginny17_

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PS: I am still active on FictionPress, this site's 'sister site' so check out listen.to.the.wind (that's me!) by doing a search for 'Emmet Warner's time machine' (that's a title) and then clicking on the author's name, 'listen.to.the.wind', to get my profile page. Thanks!


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